


You'll Be On My Jockey Team

by DiamondCaviar



Category: DCU (Comics), Green Lantern - All Media Types, The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 15:37:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8019553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondCaviar/pseuds/DiamondCaviar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They're not <i>strippers</i>,” Dinah had corrected him when he had voiced his doubt. “They're <i>male entertainers</i>. There's a distinct difference.”</p><p>It's Barry's birthday, and his friends are convinced that he deserves a <i>proper</i> celebration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll Be On My Jockey Team

Barry enjoys going out with his friends. They're honestly the only reason why he ever leaves the lab, which—according to Iris and the rest of their friends—is very good for him. Sure, he'll give them that. Going out once in a while is _good_. Socializing every once in a while is _good_. He'll admit it too; the lab is too much sometimes, so a good beer and great company would naturally be the remedy for it.

And, as they reason, it's his _birthday_.

He deserves to relax for a day, deserves to just forget the work that's waiting for him at the lab for a few hours.

Barry definitely deserves a day off.

“Thanks for calling me out tonight, you guys,” Barry says, swirling the rest of his beer around and smiling. It's his second one so far, and he's already feeling a little more pliant, a little more adventurous. When Iris and Dinah had dragged him off to this specific venue, he had been hesitant.

 

“ _They're not strippers,”_ Dinah had corrected him when he had voiced his doubt. _“They're male entertainers. There's a distinct difference.”_

“ _Definitely a distinct difference,”_ Iris had chimed in, making Barry officially powerless to them.

“ _All right then, I'll play along for now,”_ Barry grinned, and they took him in.

 

“So...” Oliver says, plucking a french fry from the basket. “What would you have been up to if the ladies hadn't dragged you out?”

“I would've just finished up whatever work I had at the lab and chilled on the couch with a beer,” Barry admits rather lamely, and Ralph makes a sound of dismay.

“No offense, but that's not acceptable for you, Barry,” Ralph says, shaking his head with just enough drama. Sue nods in agreement, and Barry can't help but smile at them. “It's your _birthday_ , for crying out loud! You're supposed to be going out to places like this, having fun and stuff.”

“I'm just getting older and older though,” Barry laughs, having no choice but to down the rest of his beer when Oliver orders the whole group another round. “Not really sure if greying is something I'm ready to celebrate just yet. I think I'm at the point where I'm just dreading every birthday.”

“Aw, _you_ can dread your birthdays, but we'll be here to celebrate them for you,” Iris says, bumping her shoulder against Barry's. “Which reminds me, we all have a present for you.”

The smile on Iris' face is playfully ominous, and Barry isn't sure what to feel when he sees that the rest of the group is grinning in similarly mischievous ways. “What did you guys do?”

“Well, a little birdie...” Dinah says, indicating to herself. “...might've let it drop to the owner—who, as you know, is a good friend of mine and Ollie's—that it was someone's birthday today.”

“What did you guys do?” Nervous excitement prickles at Barry's fingertips when he repeats his question, and he's not nearly as opposed to the group's plan as he thought he'd be. Sure, he's only _guessing_ at what their plan is, but the time and place say it all.

“Hey, how is everyone out there doing tonight?” A woman takes the stage before anyone answers his question, and she doesn't look like she belongs up there. She looks professional, respectable; the acts that Barry has seen so far have sort of been the opposite. Not really in a bad way, but the performers have definitely been wearing a lot _less_ clothing than her.

The crowd cheers; Ralph, Sue, Iris, Oliver, and Dinah all whoop and holler while Barry decides to just clap. His hands are trembling just a little bit with that thrilling anticipation, so he drinks more to loosen up.

“Glad to hear it, glad to hear it!” The woman says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I am Carol Ferris, and I will be your MC for this dazzling evening of fervent dancing and spirited romance.”

The high energy in the room is dialed up even higher, but Carol doesn't continue until the crowd settles down. She smirks conspiratorially at the crowd, like she's hiding a secret, and Barry swears that her eyes linger on their group. “But... we're going to be doing things a little _differently_ tonight.”

Iris, Dinah, and Sue cheer loudly at this, while Ralph and Oliver just chuckle at the shrieks that come from the rest of the patrons. Barry's hand begins to ache, and he only realizes just then that he's been gripping the beer bottle a little _too_ aggressively. Iris gives him a knowing side-eye, and Barry shakily laughs it off.

“Tonight, I hear, is a special night for one of our guests,” Carol says with a smile. “I've been told that we're in the presence of someone with a birthday. Is that right?”

“I can't believe you guys,” Barry says, but he's drowned out by the ardent cheers. Even though he can't think of any scenario where he gets out without feeling embarrassed, he can't help but grin. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the frenetic energy in the room, or maybe it's just because it's his birthday.

Whatever it is, Barry's _excited_.

“Now, we know how to celebrate birthdays, don't we?” Carol beams, and her smile turns seductive. “I need your help introducing tonight's little treat though. We all know him as our favorite little pilot, but he's a little more than that, isn't he? He's our very own Hal 'Highball' Jordan!!”

The crowd _erupts_ with screams that Barry swears that he goes deaf for a few seconds. And then there's a voice in his ear, low and intimate. “A little bird told me that you're the birthday boy.”

Barry turns so abruptly that he nearly falls out of his seat. Iris is there to catch him, guiding him to the voice that had jolted him out of his senses.

“Oh, _God_ ,” Barry says, his spine going rigid and his legs turning to jelly at the same time.

“Just _Hal_ is fine,” Hal grins, supporting Barry with a strong arm and guiding him towards the stage. Barry's mouth flaps open and shut as he tries to string together a more cohesive thought, but nothing comes out. Somehow, he ends up on center stage, seated on a lone chair as several bright lights beam down on him.

It's nearly bright enough to make the crowd a dark, nebulous blob of people, but Barry spots his friends and they're cheering the loudest.

Hal comes into view, blocking out everyone else. “You all right up here?”

Barry swallows when Hal turns towards the crowd, and his eyes can't help but give him a once-over. “...yup. All fine.”

His voice sounds rough and strained, and Hal glances over his shoulder at him and shoots him a smile. Then, Barry's throat goes completely dry when the music starts— _Pony, of course, what else was it going to be_ —and Hal begins to slowly strip off his flight jacket. His hips sway as the jacket slips down his shoulders, revealing the nicely toned arms that had guided Barry to the stage. With the jacket off, Hal smoothly dives to the floor, catching himself and transitioning into a slow grind against the stage.

The endless shriek from the crowd makes Barry's ears buzz, but that can also be attributed to the way Hal is grinding against the floor. He makes his way towards Barry, and when Hal pushes his legs apart, Barry swears. “ _Jesus_ , holy shit.”

“I told you...” Hal smirks, and there's an abundant amount of humor in his voice. He dips his head between Barry's legs, and Barry has to screw his eyes shut to the image. He'd really rather not pop a boner on stage, thanks. But when he opens them, Hal is hovering above him, a hand on either side of his shoulders with his hips dangerously close to Barry's body. “I usually just go by _Hal_.”

And _Hal_ takes the hem of his tank-top and pulls it over his head, his body just _rolling_ against Barry's as he strips. Barry's throat closes up and he forgets how to breathe for a second. His nose— _his mouth_ —is _this_ close to Hal's abs, and Barry is content with dying right then and there.

“You're allowed to touch, you know,” Hal ducks down close to Barry's face so that he can hear him above the music, and his hips don't stop moving. The light amusement in his voice helps Barry loosen up, and it turns into encouragement when Barry's hands hover right near Hal's hips. “Go ahead, birthday boy.”

And Hal's skin is _warm_. It's buzzing with life and excitement, and Barry would spend all of his time outside of the lab if it meant being able to touch this every single day.

“Hold on tight,” Hal warns him gently, and Barry feels himself being lifted and tipped backwards. He scrambles to grab ahold of Hal, hooking a leg around his waist in alarm. They're horizontal now, and Hal is laughing at his overreaction. “Don't worry, I've got you.” 

Barry's shirt is sticking to his back, but he slides easily along the floor as Hal pulls his body and downright _thrusts_ against him. Hal presses his hips against Barry's, and there's not much left to imagination. At this distance, _this close_ , Barry sees the sweat beading up on Hal's forehead and the endlessness of his eyes. If he wasn't going to black out in the chair, he was surely going to black out on the floor.

And suddenly, Hal's presence is gone.

Barry finally feels like he can breathe, and he's being helped up by the very same person who'd just been _grinding_ on him only a second ago. Hal leads the round of applause for Barry—why they're clapping for him is beyond him—and then he presses against Barry's side, leaning in close to his ear. “Happy birthday.”

The crowd is still screaming when Hal leads him back to his seat, and when he disappears behind a curtain, Barry has to question whether or not the past few minutes actually happened. His face is still flushed and his shirt is still damp with sweat, but it had all felt too surreal.

“Well, did you have fun?” Iris finally draws him out of his reverie. The group is grinning expectantly at him, and Barry exhales deeply.

“There are no words for what just happened up there,” Barry admits, still astonished.

“I'll say,” Oliver says, raising his beer—which looks to be his _seventh_ —at Barry.

When the venue closes, Barry hangs back near the entrance. He hugs everyone goodbye, and no one asks why he's staying; they can all make a good enough guess. When the crowd thins out, he wonders if he's missed Hal, wonders if he's not really meant to see him outside of this venue.

His heart sinks just a little bit, but it jumps back into his throat when he literally bumps into Hal. “Hey, birthday boy. Barry, right?”

“Right. _Hal_ ,” Barry nods, and he feels like they're on even ground.

“What brings you out here?” Hal dabs the towel across his forehead, gesturing to the outside of the club.

“I...” Barry begins, and he tries not to look past Hal's open flight jacket. He's wearing the tank-top underneath it, and the sweat is making it sticking to his body. “I just wanted to ask you if you had anything else planned tonight.”

“Really now?” Hal smirks. “Don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a straight-laced guy. Not really a _hit it and quit it_ dude.” 

“I'm not,” Barry admits. He's not as drunk as he was earlier, but he still feels that liquid luck coursing through his veins. “But down the street, there's a diner that's open late. We could grab a bite, if you're interested.”

Hal's smirk turns into a genuine smile, and he accepts the invitation. “Sure, I'll bite.”

**Author's Note:**

> laughs shamefully...
> 
> Thank you, always, for reading!!


End file.
